Tag Team
by The Carrot
Summary: No hot calls for a week, and things get weird, even for our elite SRU.


Target Tag

* * *

Constable Sam Braddock quietly made his way along the dark corridor, his breathing even as his heart hammered against his rib cage. A sudden sound above him had the blonde pressing himself flat against the wall and crouching down to avoid detection. After a few tense moments the sound started up again, only this time moving away.

Letting out a quiet sigh of relief the sniper remained crouched down and started moving again taking a quick left to circle around his target. Glancing at the heat sensor in his palm Sam grinned when he saw his targets, evenly spread out. All he had to do was stay low, stay quiet and most importantly stay alert. The stakes were too high now.

Inwardly cheering at his excellent night vision the blonde couldn't help but roll his eyes at leaving his night vision goggles behind. But it didn't matter; nothing mattered now… only that one of his targets had turned towards him. Hiding the heat sensor in his tac vest, Sam let his finger fall from the trigger so he could instead grab on to a wall brace so he could pull himself up onto the higher ledge.

The blonde didn't have to wait long for his target to appear. Tucking the weapon in his hand into the back of his pants Sam steadied himself on the ledge, thanking the unending darkness for hiding his presence so well.

The day had started so well too. The SRU had gone on patrol, the only real disturbance happening when an 80 year old woman beat the hell out of the idiotic 16 year old teenager who tried to rob her. He had to clamp a hand over his mouth to keep the chuckle down at the thought. Oh yes… the day had 'started' out so well-

He cut himself off, sitting up on his tip of his boots as his target paused directly below him looking around confused. Silence reigned for a brief, brief moment before Sam moved, dropping down on his poor unsuspecting target.

Wide brown eyes managed a strangled yelp before Sams arm wrapped around cutting off any further sounds and chance at breathing. The blonde paused, holding the struggling body firmly against him before it fell limp. Gently placing the unconscious man on the floor, Sam unzipped the mans vest letting him breath easier.

Kicking away the weapon the man had been carrying, the blonde gave a silent 'aha' taking the night vision goggles from the other man. His night had just gotten easier. As he slipped them over his neck Sam sent a silent prayer up to whoever was listening that Greg hadn't gotten caught in the crossfire. If he had he was sure Ed would be skinning a few people alive later on.

One down, two to go…

XxX

Rubber soles made no sound as they were pressed heavily against the floor as the blonde sniper hurried down the hallway. The heat sensor in his hand blinked in and out, the battery dying quickly as he tried to lose the person that was almost on his heels. Skidding to a stop to keep from running into a wall Sam cursed aloud, spinning around almost as quickly as he had stopped his hand flew out catching the fist aimed at his face.

A few moments and a brief scuffle later and the figure that had been following him was on the floor out cold.

Two down, one more to go…

XxX

The hallway was dark, almost too dark, even for his goggles. Pulling them away from his eyes, because really, in this area there was no light for the damn things to find and refract into his eyes. Wearing them was the same as not. And it was a good thing he had taken them off too because out of the corner of his eye he caught the sound of somebody darting out behind him.

"Oh no, you don't!" he snapped giving chase after his last target. They had almost reached the part of the hallway that spilt off in three different directions but Sam swung his legs out managing to trip his fleeing opponent.

They crashed into the ground, their legs getting tangled as they slammed into the hard floor. His target was a bit faster then he was getting back to their feet and Sam rolled out of the way as the heel of their boot was implanted where he had just been.

Reaching out he wrapped his arm around their leg tightly. "Not so quick now are you?"

He regretted the words the moment he spoke them as the other person leaned back onto their hands, their other leg wrapping up around his neck and flipping him over so he was laying face down on the ground. And before he could get back to his feet he felt a sharp blow to the back of his neck…

And then Constable Sam Braddock's word went black.

XxX

"JUST WHAT IN THE HELL DID YOU THINK YOU WERE DOING?"

Greg Parker strode back and forth in front of several members of Team one. It wasn't often the man rose his voice...let alone swore. "YOU COULD HAVE BEEN SERIOUSLY HURT!" he snapped throwing a true fear inducing glare at his four team mates who sat in front of him, each with various cuts, bruises and in two cases, a fairly bad concussion.

Sam winced as the on call medic probed the back of his head for any other large bumps but dropped his hands when the blonde man pulled away with a hiss. "It was just a bit of fun Boss." He muttered taking the ice pack from the dark haired medic who moved onto the curled up techie beside him.

"FUN? How is Spike hitting his head off of the wall, FUN?" Greg growled at the blonde.

Spike sat sideways in one of the leather chairs that were in the conference room, his head buried in his arms as he tried to control the pounding in his head. He gave out a loud groan as if in agreement.

Said blonde grimaced, looking sheepishly at his friend. "Yeah, sorry about that Spike."

"S'okay." The brown haired Italian slurred back raising his head enough so he could see the guilty look on Sams face. He'd be getting coffee for a month off of this one.

"So does somebody want to explain to me what exactly you were doing in the tactical range at one in the morning?" The Sergeant butted in rubbing the bridge between his eyes and nose. "And don't you dare try to fee me something about practising take down manoeuvres. I may be tired but I was not born yesterday."

Wordy looked up from where he was holding a bandage to his arm. He had managed to cut himself when he was grappling with Sam, damn the kid could fight and he had the bruises to prove it. "Come on Boss, we were just playing a game."

"A Game?" Greg felt himself start to grind his teeth together, the action pushing on the headache he was developing.

Jules grinned pulling her jacket closer around her, she had managed to get away relatively unscathed throughout the entire incident. "Yeah Sarge, it's just a dumb kids game."

"Then how in the world did you all manage to get injured bad enough that Winnie had to call Frank," he motioned widely to the medic, "playing a kids game!"

"We just got a bit rough is all." Sam muttered again.

"You can say that again." Spike snorted rolling his head around to glare at the blonde. "You almost broke my friggen head off you crazy Special Forces freak."

Sam glared at his friend. "I said I was sorry, It's not my fault I can sneak up on you."

"Hey!" Greg snapped his fingers getting the attention of his team to stop their squabbling. "What Game?"

The group of four officers squirmed where they sat, or stood in Jules case. Their bosses anger clearly throwing them for a loop. To be honest it was scarier then having a crazy psychopath throwing a gun around in your face.

"Well, Boss, you have to understand." Sam started wringing the ice pack in his hands, "We were… well…we- ah…"

"I think what Sam's trying to say is," Wordy put in saving the blonde from trying to explain. "We haven't had a hot call in a week and we were…" Even the father trailed off at the withering look Greg was giving him.

"I'm not saying it." Jules stated crossing her arms refusing to even bother trying.

"Um… bored?"

Apparently Techies and concussions didn't mix well because if Spike had had a clear head he would have kept his mouth at that given point and time. Instead the Italian had glanced towards his boss confusion clear in his eyes.

"Bored?" Greg's incredulous was as clear in his words as it was on his face. "You were bored so you decided to try and KILL EACH OTHER PLAYING A KIDS GAME!"

The four team mates winced visibly.

"We didn't try to… we just got out of hand a bit." Sam repeated

"It wouldn't have been so out of hand if you hadn't cheated." Spike perked up his tone sour.

The blonde sniper glared at his friend. "I didn't cheat."

"You were using a heat sensor." Wordy agreed leaning forward to rest his elbows on his knees.

"The rules said anything goes... and anyways Jules almost broke my neck and I'm not accusing her of cheating." He pointed over his shoulder at the smug looking brunette.

"You're just embarrassed that a girl beat you so you didn't want to bring it up." The father sitting beside him added.

Sam felt the tips of his ears turn red. "Well at least I didn't shriek when I got tagged." He knew he sounded like a petulant child but just glared at Spike.

"I didn't shriek!" The Italian's head shot up, a move he instantly regretted when the room spun around widely.

His three opponents gave him a flat look when he finally managed to look back at them without being sick. "Yeah Spike, yeah you did." Jules smirked.

With a heavy sigh Greg waved his hand around in the air as if to brush away their ramblings before letting them fall to his hips. "I know I'm going to regret asking this…" he met his friends eyes. "But what game were you playing?"

Silence met him.

Unsurprisingly.

Finally Spike mumbled a reply that was muffled from his arms.

"Excuse me?" Greg asked his brown eyes burning a hole into the techies back.

"Tag." Wordy clarified mentally bracing himself for Hurricane Greg. "We were playing tag."

"Sam Braddock style." Jules chuckled flicking the blonde on the back of the head affectionately, regretting it a second later when he let out a low groan and pitched forward, realizing she had flicked him where her boot had connected. "Shit, Sam! Sorry…"

The End

* * *

Boredness strikes. And I think I'm getting a cold. Haha, Just a little one-shot with some team bonding and whump. Hope you liked it.


End file.
